“Kalakal”

The dumpsite was eventually closed, and a housing system for the poor was constructed. Smokey Mountain was renamed Paradise Heights, and the Risen Christ Parish was established in 1989.

“When I first arrived in Smokey Mountain, I was shocked and sad about the level of poverty,”

said Fr. Melky Ulkat, who is originally from Indonesia. Fr. Melky has been living in the Philippines for 10 years, spending seven years in Mindoro and three years in Manila, at the helm of the Risen Christ Parish. He learned to speak Tagalog fluently, eliminating the language barrier between him and his parishioners.

“Our church does not have a lot of money because the collection is low. People here earn so little,” he said. A majority of Smokey Mountain residents are scavengers. A typical family here only earns up to P100 ($2) per day—sometimes less. So when the entire Metro Manila was placed under enhanced community quarantine, many lost their sources of income.

“We can't just be praying all the time. We need to do something,”

said Fr. Melky. Prior to visiting houses, Fr. Melky and his volunteers liaise with the village chief and strictly observe the social distancing measure instituted by the government. With masks and latex gloves, this team, on certain days, walks several miles under the scorching heat of the summer sun to reach a household in need.

“Our volunteers distribute gift checks from morning until noon. They get tired, but they tell me that they are happy because they are serving their community,” said Fr. Melky. “It is our first time to distribute gift checks, and the people are in awe because it is a significant amount,” he added. 

The distribution of gift checks, according to Fr. Melky, strengthens the relationship between the church and the community. It reminds people that the church is not only there to pray for them, but also to give relief.  

“With the gift checks, people are free to buy the things they want. They have more control and can use it to buy not only food but also milk for their children and medicines,” said Rosario Dalagan, a 53-year-old volunteer who helps Fr. Melky.

When Caritas Manila asked her to volunteer, Rosario immediately packed her bags, and was not able to say goodbye to her husband. It was her decision to stay away from home while she was volunteering, to protect her 83-year-old mother from a possible infection. 

 “I miss my husband, and he misses me, too. But serving our community is important,” Rosario said.

For Rosario, helping the residents of an impoverished area is a source of fulfillment that helps her sleep at night.

“Even the non-Catholics are thankful. They were crying when they received the gift checks,”  

shared Venice Narisma, a 33-year-old volunteer.

According to Venice, seeing his neighbors struggle during the community quarantine affected him emotionally. For most families in Smokey Mountain, a day of missed work would mean hunger for every member of the household.

“The gift checks give them dignity. It's not spoon-feeding, and they have a choice,” said Venice. It also means people receive equal shares.

A gift check was handed to each head of the household, who only had to show an ID and sign. “[The heads of the households] also play a part. They help themselves by going to the grocery and buying their food,” added Venice. 

The gift checks also saved time and effort for volunteers, who no longer had to repack thousands of relief goods and carry them while doing a house-to-house distribution. And for some residents of Smokey Mountain, going to the grocery and having the liberty to choose what to buy is a rare occasion.

For Jennelyn Bargo, who is pregnant with her third child, the gift check enabled her to buy treats for her children. Her husband lost his job as a pedicab driver when the community quarantine was implemented.

Jennelyn and her sisters are homeless. They built makeshift living spaces under the cargo trucks parked near Smokey Mountain. “One of my kids died, and I gave up my two children because of poverty,” she said

Just before sunrise, Regie starts his day preparing for work with his adopted daughter, Jessica. They live in a six-foot high makeshift hut under a bridge in Smokey Mountain, where it is impossible to observe social distancing.

Regie is a street sweeper who doubles as a garbage collector. He is part of the workforce that keeps Manila clean during the community quarantine.

“I will go to the doctor when the virus is over,” said Regie, who is overly cautious in handling his facemask for he has been coughing for a couple of weeks.

Regie is no stranger to hospitals––his wife was  in and out of them because of a kidney disease. “My wife underwent dialysis for six months, and it was costly,” said Regie.

Regie resorted to begging for help and collecting kalakal to support his wife’s medical expenses. She ultimately succumbed to the illness. 

As a street sweeper, Regie continues to receive a salary of Php 540 ($10) a day, even during the community quarantine. He uses the money to raise Jessica, who dreams of becoming a teacher.

On the day of their grocery shopping, Regie sported a clean haircut and wore his finest shirt as he and Jessica lined up in front of the grocery.

They woke up early to avoid the long queues. Their shy faces were radiant with excitement.

“It is our first time here in Puregold,” Jessica said, while she marveled at the things inside the grocery. Upon obtaining essential supplies, Regie told Jessica to get something for herself. 

The 16-year-old girl giggled as she picked up sanitary pads. Her smile was priceless.